Makes Me Hum Lionel Richie

Isn't it strange when someone reaches out of your past, and connects with you today? Hello? Is it me you're looking for?

I have had this happen twice in the last three days, one on a social networking site, and one on this little blog (and I'm guessing this involved some fancy use of Google). One was a childhood friend and one was a former boss whom I respected and liked very much, who incidentally now lives 2 hours from here.

I can't help but ponder where I am today, how much has changed since we last spoke, and what I have learned in the years past.

It makes me want to sit up straighter, suck in my tummy, shake back my hair and clear my throat. I HAVE grown and changed a lot since I knew you, person from my past, and I am a better person for it.

Time has changed me, I'll concede.

Yes, I look older and have fine lines and wrinkles to show for it. My hair sports a few greys now, but my hairdresser is a killer colorist and I will be naturally blonde forever, dammit.

I've put in long hours at work managing many a client crisis; I have dealt with and moved on from unhealthy work situations, romantic relationships and difficult friendships. I have gone into debt, and am battling back from it. Traveling for work has taken its toll, but I'm a wiser and more efficient passenger (with premium status!) now.

My body has changed, and I treat it differently now. This includes giving in to the desires for french fries—if loving deep fried potatoes is wrong, I don't want to be right.

Of course I have learned from many mistakes, some of which I am proud of having made in the first place just to know that I could. Having few regrets, I have grown up, taken charge of my life, and have improved my status in the world, even if only visible to me.

I have acquired things, but more importantly, I now can boast ownership of a little pieces of paper that make me proud: a car title, a healthy 401(k) statement, a deed to my condo, health/dental/life insurance cards and an acceptable credit score, all of which prove (on paper at least!) that I've grown up.

Maybe I'm proving this all to myself, but it feels good to self-validate every now and then. With each season comes a new wardrobe and a new perspective. New challenges, but with that comes the accolades of triumph.

Having missed my 10-year high school reunion, and not making it "home" that often to wander the halls of the local mall hoping to spot the old boyfriend or ex-friends, and not having been the one to get married and have two beautiful children, the insecurities of looking back are far fewer just knowing that I'm moving forward.

I was voted, in the highly unscientific poll amongst my closest high school girlfriends, the most likely to have a great career, and most likely to get married first.

Well, a girl can't have everything, now can she? Unless it's on sale...

Either way, I'm happy to pick up my string-attached tin can and connect. Because, gosh darnit, you got older too, person from my past.

Hiding Behind Shades

Why is it when I'm wearing sunglasses I feel like no one can see me?

Today I was on the bus to work and I saw an old colleague, one that I didn't favor all that much back then. She's changed a lot since then so I didn't recognize her instantly, but then realized it was her as she sat right across from me.

We both had our free RedEye newspapers to hide behind, and I had my big sunglasses on so I was double-protected. I just didn't feel like doing the "across the aisle with everyone listening small talk" this morning.

So, I used my shades as a weapon and just plain ignored her. I prefer to say "I didn't see her" but she and I both know that's not the truth.

I shouldn't feel too badly—she didn't talk to me either.

Just ruminating on the sunglass protection theory. That's all.